


Underneath This Skin There's A Human

by orphan_account



Series: The Cipher Twins [5]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dark, Dark Character, Demons, Depressing, Descent into Madness, Gen, Hive Mind, Mind Meld, Minor Injuries, Sad Ending, Self-Harm, Short One Shot, Stream of Consciousness, cipher being all of them, sort of, this was mostly just me trying to get a feel for how to write Cipher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 03:59:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2453891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to stay out of your head when you've got two of them. But they find a way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underneath This Skin There's A Human

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Human' by Daughter because it was that or a line from 'Demons' and I wasn't quite ready to be that on the nose.
> 
> Warning for fairly brief mention of self harm and then reference to continued self harm. (I did not mean for this fic to get so angsty jfc.)

           They were alright. They might as well be navigating a minefield, sorting through all the memories and thoughts in their mind, but they managed. Or maybe it was more accurate to say 'minds'. Was it? Maybe not. They didn't know, or particularly care. The point was, their thoughts were a jumbled mess, confusing and circular and frustrating in their refusal to make any sense whatsoever. And it was only getting worse with time; they could barely differentiate anymore between what used to be one of them and what used to be another.

           It was why they spoke so little; whenever they opened their mouths they were never sure if the right thought was going to come out, or if they could make the words come out of the right mouth.

 

=·=·=·=·=·=·=

 

_Mabel Bill Dipper Cipher Pines all the names that were them and weren't them and used to be parts of them but not really...they needed a new name that was all of them because they couldn't keep thinking of themselves this way as three and one and two at a time. Always flowing through one personality to the next like musical chairs names never stayed the same why couldn’t there be just one?_

 

=·=·=·=·=·=·=

 

           “Hey, Dipper,” They had to stop themselves from reacting to the name with both bodies, Dipper was one’s name but not the other and it was always so hard to remember which went with which. “I found more new signs for you to hang up.” Stan held up the signs in question.

_Concentrate, just a few words it isn’t hard just say the words stupid human mouth why won’t you open has it always been this hard to talk with vocal cords?_

           “Ok, Grunkle Stan.” They managed to speak out of one mouth and not the other, and it was the right one, thank the stars, but both of their bodies got up to take the signs. Stan held the signs out of reach, and they mentally cursed their shortness in comparison to almost anyone above the age of 14.

           “Uh, just Dipper; Mabel, I want you and Soos to organize the storage closet upstairs. Soos is already up there working on it, so hurry and get up to help him before he breaks something.” Stan motioned in the general direction of the stairs. They would have shared a look if they’d needed to, as it was they just blinked at Stan, wondering if just that motion would be enough to convey the level of ‘that is an awful idea’ that they felt. They hadn’t tried yet to test how far apart their bodies could go, and with their thoughts in such disarray they weren’t sure they wanted to right now. It would almost definitely end up just making things worse.

           “We--” They stopped. Recalculated. _We isn’t right we is plural we is more than one I is just one not three we have to use I._ One mouth opened to speak and the second didn’t. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Grunkle Stan.”

           “You guys never think anything is a good idea.” Stan deadpanned, which they had to admit was pretty much true.

 

=·=·=·=·=·=·=

 

            It got worse the further away each body was from the other, just as they’d predicted. Their thoughts got less and less organized, and their mind got stretched thinner and thinner over the ever-increasing space between them, despite them trying their best to minimize it.

            They heard Soos talking across the dim storage room, heard a squirrel skitter away from them a few feet away in the brighter woods, saw dusty boxes and green pines, and they couldn’t _focus_ couldn’t separate enough to keep both bodies doing what they were supposed to. Growling, they tried to think of a way to focus on both places; to force their mind into their bodies so they could _concentrate_ without seeing half of one place and half of the other. In the woods, they dug their fingernails into their arm, hard enough to draw blood, and grinned at the pain. In the Shack, they dropped a small box on their foot, cringing and biting their tongue at the ominous _crack_ they heard their bones make. Okay, maybe the box was just a bit of overkill, but they’d never been one ( _three_ ) to do things in halves.

            The pain did its job. Part of them could see the Shack and hear Soos panicking about their maybe-broken foot, and part could hear pixies chattering up ahead through the trees. For the moment, at least, they were separate enough to be in two places at once. They just didn’t know how long it’d last.

 

=·=·=·=·=·=·=

 

            Days built up into weeks, and every time the sun set they found themselves with more injuries gained trying to keep themselves stretched too-thin over space. The pain kept them in control, kept them balanced and made it so they could think straight without always trying to be in one spot, because they weren’t one body and they needed to learn how to make that work before it got used against them. And it would get used against them, they were sure, because that was how humans _worked_. _Find a weakness and exploit it that’s what humans did and that’s what demons did too because that was just how it went so the weaknesses had to be gotten rid of or it would cause problems._ Hence the pain.

           But the pain was a lot less hilarious when it was constant, and the dull ache that barely kept them grounded was indeed constant. Their powers could heal the broken bones and stop them from bleeding _too_ much, but they weren’t full of endless energy like Bill used to be. They were still human, after all, at least on some level. _Levels; more than one thing making them human but so many things making them demon as well and they weren’t really much of either, when it came down to it, they were everything and nothing and it was hilarious and terrifying and new._

            Bandages hid under increasingly long sleeves and pants because the humans ( _family, friends, enemies, pests, loved, annoying. There wasn’t really much of a difference anymore, they were all outsiders to the tangle of half-thoughts that made their mind_ ) got worried when faced with scars and scabs. They didn’t do it to hurt themselves, they wanted to explain. But they didn’t. And the humans frowned and offered help and offered their ears ( _though not literally, which was really a shame sometimes_ ) and it was so tiring to smile again and again and say that they were alright.

            They didn’t think they were alright.


End file.
